Somehow the conversation turned to Capri Suns– the chalky tasting drink pouches anchoring my kids daily lunch. “Ugh, I can’t even drink them anymore.” Ben said. “They remind me of 12 years of sack lunches.”
“Oh I know,” Sammie said, “kind of like the Prince Lu School Boy cookies.”
We all turned to her in amazement. Prince Lu School Boy cookies?! Those are anything but ordinary.
“My mom put one or two in my lunch every day.” Sammie said.
“And what was the rest of your lunch?” Erik asked. “French bread with brie cheese?”
“Um, yeah. Or maybe gouda.”
“Your sack lunch as a kid,” Erik declared, “was my Christmas!”
Heather spoke up next, “I can’t believe you got Capri Suns in your sack lunch! At my house those are only for special occasions.”
We all laughed, but the phrase has stuck with us. “Your school lunch is my Christmas.”
Before I go any further, let’s clarify we’re not calling Sammie spoiled– her mom just happens to make the best school lunches on the planet (and every other meal). Sammie’s lovely and hardworking and grateful and practically perfect in every way. Still I keep thinking about the concept– my ordinary is someone else’s extraordinary.
Everyone’s on the gratitude bandwagon these days, so I’m not offering any new insight, but I think it’s fun to think about the ordinary things around us which would awe and amaze others.
Just the wonder of seasons in Utah makes our San Diego cousins swoon. They live in the most beloved climate in the country (see The Pleasant Places to Live) yet they delight in our vibrant rainy springs, dry hot summers, glorious autumn colors and snowy winters. Our friends live in Paris right by the Arc d’Triomphe and they marvel at our backyard and walking distance to church. Our school lunch = their Christmas and vice versa.
Mary and I are home this weekend suffering with summer colds while the boys hike the Narrows in Zion National Park. Living near so many National Parks provides some of the benefits of making Utah our home, as do the canyons near our house, the ski hills, the Mormon Pioneer sights, the temples, our sunsets and so many other ordinary extraordinary bits of daily life.
We weren’t too sad to be left home from the vacation in Zion’s. Sure we would have loved canyoneering and hiking, but we enjoyed our cozy beds, watering the garden, reading books, washing fewer dishes….
Ordinary. Extraordinary. Kind of like Christmas every day.